Chapter 4

Luckily there is a great feast planned after the wedding, so I can postpone our first night alone together for a while longer. Perhaps he will not expect too much of me, not yet—but I’m not ready to be alone with him, either.

Each of my advisors offers us a gift, as do all of my regional leaders, who have traveled for the celebration. They bring us fine wine, matching silver goblets, and reams of golden cloth. The Burbarre, too, have prepared their own tributes of bronze rings, jewel-crusted weapons, and rare furs. Prince Jakol has his own advisors, who sit on the opposite side of the table from us. Some of them know our language and some don’t; those who can communicate do so, clearly trying to build alliances with my people. A great effort is being made to unify with us.

Fiore is slipping from my fingers and into the Prince’s wide-open hands. Soon everything that is mine will be his. But this was the price, I remind myself, of saving my people. I can only hope that he doesn’t squander all the work my predecessors have done to build this kingdom.

Once the feast is finished, I can no longer put off the night. It feels like a dragon rising from its hole and creeping closer and closer to my castle until its eyes are peering in the windows.

“If you would, my Queen?” Jakol stands up and offers me his hand.

“To King Jakol!” One of his advisors says, raising a glass in a toast. Everyone at the table cheers, and I had forgotten for a moment that marrying me has made him a king in his people’s eyes. Perhaps this is part of why he sought me out, to become the king he’s always wanted to be, just like his father.

I feel like my body has separated from my mind as Jakol guides me out of the banquet hall. We have never visited my quarters before—it was not necessary until now—and so he stands in the hallway, waiting for me to lead him to where we’ll now sleep.

Together.

A slow tightening begins in my chest as I imagine what will happen there. It’s been a long and momentous day, and I am thoroughly exhausted. I hope that excuse will suffice for tonight.

“My Queen,” Jakol says in a low voice, only for my ears. I realize I’ve been standing there for some time without moving, and my head jerks to look up at him. He takes my hand and runs his thumb over it. “Please know that I will not ask of you anything you aren’t comfortable with.”

I wonder if it’s too late to ask not to marry him at all. I hadn’t been comfortable all day—well, except for the moment that he kissed me. But I must not think about that.

All I can do is nod. It seems that, at least for tonight, I’ll be safe.

When we reach my quarters, Jakol waits for me to open the door and follows me inside. It is strange to see him here, a juxtaposition of my soft bed with its yellow duvet and white pillows up against his horns and furred legs. He looks like an invader here, and I suppose that he is.

“May I?” he asks, and travels around to stand behind me. I’m not sure what he wants, not until he sweeps up some of my hair in his hands. It’s all bound back, arranged into a neat pile on my head with many small pins and clips, only a few calculated strands hanging down. I will need help freeing my hair from its bonds, so I nod, and he begins to disassemble it one barrette at a time until my long hair falls down my back. He gently combs his fingers through it, untangling the parts that have become wound up and knotted. When he’s finished, I feel Jakol’s large hand run over my head, down the length of my hair, then come to rest on my back. I don’t move as he leans so close that his breath blows a few strands in front of me. A slow pulsing starts in my chest with him so close, and I can’t tell if it’s fear or anticipation.

Then he kisses the exposed skin on my shoulder, sending a sharp bolt of electricity into my neck. It’s so sudden and shocking that I twist away, and Jakol quickly removes his hands.

“My apologies,” he says, and by his blush, I don’t think he meant to do it. He doesn’t try to compliment me or make excuses. He simply watches as I stalk into my closet and close the door behind me.

Once I’m alone, I take a few deep breaths. Just like the first kiss, his lips on my skin felt good—I can’t deny that, not for a moment. But I must remember that this is simply a natural reaction to physical intimacy. It’s been so long since I experienced it with anyone that I’m too susceptible now, and no barriers have coalesced around me to protect my vulnerable emotions from invaders.

He said that he won’t ask me to do anything I don’t want, but how long will that last? Perhaps all of his kindnesses are ticking clocks. King Jakol will certainly want heirs, as his royal line is determined by blood and not nomination. What does that mean for me someday?

I can’t think about that. No, I must take it one day at a time and hope that eventually, I will feel something for him besides repulsion. He may someday grow tired of waiting for me, and my throat closes just imagining it. I wish I could simply sink into the floor.

Eventually, I change into my bedclothes, and that’s when it occurs to me just how much my sheer nightgown gives away. I should have had something else made, something less revealing, but the thought never even crossed my mind. I will just have to bear it.

When I return, Jakol sits on the bed with one leg held out as he removes each bronze ring from his ankles. He is still wearing clothes on his bottom half, thank goodness, but I have a feeling that will not last.

He turns to face me when I reappear, and his mouth falls open. I can see in the mirror behind him what he sees: My pink nipples are clearly visible through the fabric, as is the mound of hair between my legs. The gown ends below my knees, and my feet are bare.

“Oh,” is all he says. Then he quickly averts his eyes, and his shoulders tighten. “I could sleep on the floor.” He doesn’t look at me as he talks. “If that would be easier for you.”

What? A king sleep on the floor? He is only being considerate, I know, but that is ridiculous.

“No.” When he looks up at me, I return it with a glare. “We will have to sleep in the same bed eventually, will we not?”

I’m answered with a stiff nod. “It would be ideal, given that we are married now,” he says, uneasy. “But?—”

I sigh. “Exactly. So, no. Sleep in the bed.” I climb in on one side and slide under the blankets as far as I can without disappearing. I keep close to the edge while Jakol crawls in on the other side.

“I won’t touch you,” he says quietly. “You don’t need to hide over there.”

“I’m comfortable right where I am.”

Jakol nods, his horns tapping against the headboard. “Of course.”

I extinguish the light, and darkness falls in my room. Our room now, I suppose. It’s difficult to relax knowing a great beast shares my bed with me, but eventually, I hear Jakol’s breathing even out, and the gentle sway of it lulls me into sleep.